


What Hermione Gave Harry

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas fluff and angst, F/M, Time Travel, but love is stronger, relationships can be tough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21615598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A continuation of "Crossing a Line". A Christmas gift and birthday present for a jewel in the fandom. I hope you enjoy!!Hermione is fretting her gift a time travel may be too much... but perhaps it'll be just what she and Harry need.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 20
Kudos: 76





	What Hermione Gave Harry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NuclearNik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuclearNik/gifts).

> For NuclearNik. You are a gem and i loved writing this for you! I'm so sorry this ended up being angstier than I planned, but I dearly hope you enjoy this!! <3 Happy birthday!! 
> 
> Thank you to Courtinginsanity for your clutch and appreciate beta eyes! and as every, to LadyKenz347 and Frumpologist, for being the loveliest alphas and encouragement and help a person could have!! all remaining errors are mine!! 
> 
> I own no part of the Harry Potter franchise!!

* * *

To say Hermione Granger was nervous would be an understatement. 

Hermione was pacing the floor, gnawing her bottom lip to shreds, picking at the beds of her nails, and alternating between heaving several large breaths in rapid succession and counting up to ten in her head before remembering to breathe. 

Several things could go wrong with Harry’s Christmas present, and she was out of her mind thinking this wasn’t a good idea, and why oh why couldn’t she just think like a normal girlfriend—if that’s what she even  _ was _ ; it was still a bit unclear, thanks to nonsense like school and Auror training—and buy him something safe like a bloody broom cleaning kit (as Ginny would have done), or knit him a scarf to go with his Weasley family sweater? 

Or simply wait for him in his bed at Grimmauld Place on Christmas Eve, naked save for a strategically placed red bow—also a gift that sounded strikingly like something Ginny would have done. 

Minister Shacklebolt cleared his throat from behind his desk. “He hasn’t forgotten, has he Miss Granger?” 

Hermione ceased pacing for a moment, offering a smile she hoped appeared less nervous than it felt as she answered: “I’m sure he’ll be along soon, sir.” Her eyes slid from the Minister to his open office door, worrying her lower lip again as Harry still hadn’t appeared… then turned her attention back to Minister Shacklebolt. “I feel I should thank you again for what you’re doing tonight. For what you’ve allowed me to do… This is beyond generous of you and the Ministry of Magic in every—”

“Think nothing of it, Miss Granger.” He lifted a silencing but not reprimanding hand, smiling broadly. “After all your contributions and services to the wizarding world at large, consider this a small token of our gratitude.” 

“Still… I can’t imagine all the promises and guarantees you had to make to even—”

“I’M HERE!” 

Hermione whirled around as Harry burst through the open office door, her heart simultaneously leaping into her throat and ceasing to beat altogether. 

“Sorry, to keep you both waiting,” Harry continued, wasting no time in moving to Hermione, wrapping an arm around her waist and dropping a kiss to her curls in a way that melted her completely before officially greeting the Minister of Magic himself. 

_ Maybe this was more official than she’d fretted over _ , she mused to herself as Minister Shacklebolt rounded his desk. 

“No apologies necessary, Mr. Potter—” 

“‘Harry’.”

“ _ Harry _ .” The middle-aged wizard nodded, slipping his hand into his robes. “I’m sorry to inform you that I’ll be along for the ride with this Christmas gift, but I’m sure you’ll understand, as Miss Granger does, that the Ministry of Magic is wanting to err on the side of caution as much as possible for the time being.” 

Hermione nodded in acquiescence as Harry’s emerald-green gaze darted between the two. “Completely understandable, Minister. I would ask that you allow some measure of privacy when…” She trailed off, lifting her eyebrows to finish her unspoken question. 

“But of course. Shall we, then?” he queried, withdrawing his hand a familiar looking miniature hourglass dangling from a gold chain. 

“Hermione, what—?” 

“Just…” She took Harry’s hand, squeezing tight and leading them to Minister Shacklebolt. “Trust me, all right?” 

Everything was a blur and not at all what she remembered from her experience with a Time Turner back in third year. Going back years rendered one to a sense of weightlessness, falling slowly for ages, or perhaps no time at all… Until she crashed into the ground at last and fell into Harry’s arms at the force of impact. 

“Ah, perfect.” The Minister of Magic spoke first, his keen gaze taking stock of the very room they’d previously occupied—only now eighteen years previous. “I can let you Apparate from here, Miss Granger,” he said, his eyes meeting Hermione’s. “You have up to an hour. A minute more and my contingency plans kick in.” 

“Understood, sir.” She nodded while Harry’s mouth fell open with a question he didn’t have the chance to ask. “Thank you again, Minister,” she hurried on, dropping her hold on Harry’s hand only to lace her fingers through his as she led him closer to the door. 

“ _ Hermione _ ,” Harry hissed. “What in the name of—?”

She smashed her lips against his, sloppy and not at all romantic, but all she could think of to silence his continued questioning. She brushed her nose against his as the kiss ended. “Trust me. Please?” 

A swallow so thick she heard the bob in his throat. “I do. I promise I do.” 

“Okay. I’m going to side-long Apparate you now, and I swear to you, Harry, I’ll explain everything when we arrive. All right?” 

He nodded, his forehead falling to hers. “Lead on then.” 

“All right.” A gulp and quick kiss, just for good measure. “I’m going to Apparate us now.” 

“Okay.” 

She focused on their destination with all her might; holding tight to the image of the house that had nearly been the death of them this time last year… Then there was spinning, tugging, and the pressing of their bodies together, as if being caught up in a whirlpool together. She clung to Harry as they landed in a heap… 

In a small hill of gathered snow. 

“Bollocks! What the—?” 

“ _ Shhhhhhhh!!!” _ Hermione hissed, clapping a hand over his mouth as they stepped out of the frigid collection of frosty cold, still holding on to each other. Hermione dropped their hold first, casting a series of silencing and disillusionment charms over them, her eyes now trained on the house just beyond Harry. 

Beyond the little picket gate.

Where several windows were all aglow with warm golden light and the curtains weren’t drawn… 

Because it was Christmas Eve in Godric’s Hollow.

And James and Lily Potter hadn’t reason to fear the Voldemort seeking them out personally yet. 

“We’re here…” she murmured, her voice faltering more than she’d anticipated, and her smile much weaker than she’d hoped it would be. 

Harry finished vanishing snow from their denims and casting a drying spell over their shoes before taking the unspoken cue to survey their surroundings. “Hermione…?” he began then trailed off… The familiarity, the impossible significance of the scene dawning on him. 

Cold fear gripped Hermione’s heart as he turned around entirely, his back now to her, hands hanging limp at his sides, his wand slipping from his fingers. She stooped down to pick it up for him; there was enough for him to take in, after all. 

“The year is 1980, Harry,” she began, uncertain how her voice came to function. “It’s your first Christmas, and given the hour, you’re probably already in bed and asleep, but Remus and Sirius are still here. They spent the night at your house to give you one of your presents when you first woke up.” 

Silence was her only answer, save for a cold wind blowing through bare branches. Shadows danced about one of the windows, leaving Hermione to surmise everyone was in a room close by, but they heard nothing from within the sacred domain. 

It may have been thirty seconds or thirty minutes of standing in silence, staring at the house, not daring to move or speak… Hermione had never been more unsure of anything in her life—which was saying a great deal.    
  
“I… I dunno what to say, love.” 

_ Love _ . Her heart clenched and ached at the term of endearment. It was her favourite and everything felt so different lately. Not ‘off’ per se; it was just… Harry had been so busy and exhausted from Auror training the past several weeks, she’d been studying so hard for end-of-term exams… There’d been no time for seeing each other since the morning after Halloween. And while the owls exchanged had been frequent and full of caring words and wishes, they’d been shorter. Because of the lack of time available, or so she’d continually repeated to herself. 

At least, she  _ hoped  _ the enemies known as time and busyness were to blame… Not because Harry’s feelings had altered or lessened… 

His hand slipped into hers, fingers sliding through the spaces between hers, stilling all her riotous insecurities and fears. His lips brushed against her cheek, his breath tickling her skin as he spoke, hushed and low. “You know I can practically hear your thoughts when you’re all quiet like that, yeah?”

“‘Suppose you can,” she half-giggled in return, allowing her expression to loosen. “Did I do the wrong thing here, Harry? I can always get you something for your broom or a new wand holster or new boots if you’d prefer, but I just thought…”  _ Merlin _ , _ why was this so hard? _ “I thought maybe you’d like to have a happy moment from this place. I thought you deserved to see something beautiful come from here, and not have last Christmas be all you truly remembered of your first home.” 

“Yeah… I… It’s…” His fingers squeezed tight against hers, and she hoped his state of speechlessness was something good. He huffed and shook his head, teeth biting down on his lip before he looked back to her, admitting, “I still don’t quite know what to say, but maybe you could tell me how you came up with this idea, how you set it all up?” 

“Sure.” Her head bobbed nervously. “D’you wanna get closer while we talk?” 

Something in his expression tightened, even has he took a step forward. “All right.”    
  
Hermione cast another series of silencing charms as they opened the gate and crept forward together, hand-in-hand. The shadows still danced from a room beyond the small window they situated themselves near, but from the furniture visible, this appeared to be a sitting room of sorts, and perhaps everyone would make their way here eventually. Before their time was up. 

“So, I had this nightmare about us and Godric’s Hollow end of November—”

“You never said—” 

“I know,” she interrupted, squeezing his fingers tight. “It may not be fair to you, but I’m selective about when I tell you about my nightmares; what they’re about and when I have them. You’re busy and I’m busy, and I don’t want to add to the weight of our separation by creating another problem you can’t fix… One that we neither of us can do anything about.” 

Harry curled a finger under her chin, tipping her face to his so fast, so tenderly, so impossibly gentle… His emerald-green eyes so intent upon her, she could have cried then and there. “You never have to hide or wait to tell me anything, Hermione. It’s up to you what you share and when, but don’t worry over being a burden. Ever. You never are and you never could me.” 

“Oh, Harry.” Hot tears pricked the corners of her eyes, and she loathed the heaviness of it all, because this was  _ Harry’s present _ and she wasn’t supposed to cry for anything other than joy of this moment. Merlin hang. It. All! “I’ve missed having you at school so much, more than I thought I would, and it’s not even the same preparing for N.E.W.T.’s without your study schedule to worry over.” 

He laughed, but she gave a thick swallow before managing a watery chuckle in return. 

“We can… we can talk more on this later,” she continued, “as much as you like for as long as you like, because it’s the holidays and I won’t look at my time charts at all, but let’s…” Her voice trailed off as she looked back to the house. “Let’s focus on keeping this about you and something beautiful here. Because I’ve been worrying over all the details going into this for  _ ages _ now...” 

“Right…” A breathy chuckle. “Priorities, then.” His free hand floated from her face to the window as he gazed to the house, longingly. She could tell he was far from content simply sitting out here, remaining an outside observer from the tightening of his jaw and straightening of his shoulders. His voice was so low, she almost missed it when he asked, “So, you’ve been cooking up this grand scheme for ages, yeah?”

“Just about.” She inched closer, threading her fingers through his, allowing her head to lean into his arm as they watched shadows dance across the floor of the still empty room. “With my history with the Time Turner, Kingsley had a bit of a time trying to get the Wizengomot to agree to this, and I don’t know how he knew exactly which room we could appear into to not be caught, but they finally allowed all this it when he offered to chaperone us to the past.” 

“How’d you know everyone would even be here tonight?” 

“Remus’ journals.” He shifted, eyes wide and brimming with unspoken questions as he looked down at her. The smile she gave in return was small and sad. “Andromeda found them at their house. I’d been thinking of writing a book of all our experiences. Or maybe some biographies. Anyways, I wrote to her asking if she’d be available for interviews if I went with it, and she was very polite in her assent. Even offering to look through Remus’ and Tonks’ things for letters and such.” 

Her voice grew watery, eyes filling with hot tears as she forced out what followed. “She sent a parcel full of things just before Halloween… The idea for this came to me when I found a journal entry mentioning this Christmas specifically.” 

“I see…”

Silence fell over them for what seemed a long time afterwards. Hushed and unhurried moments collecting around and between them, like flakes of snow gathering on the window sill. Harry perked up as Sirius bounded into the room at one point as Padfoot, flipping and running in circles, but he ran out of the room, back to where the rest of his found-family was congregating. 

The Christmas tree in the sitting area was modest and tasteful, and really the entire room looked cosy and inviting. Hermione couldn’t imagine what was keeping everyone away… 

Her wand chimed, breaking the mesmerising spell of stalking/window peeping in the past. Her heart clenched and everything ached as her lips parted. “Ten minutes to get back, Harry.” 

“Right.” He nodded, his attention fixed on the room. 

Everything in Hermione wilted. Wilted, sagged, and crumbled. What a rotten mess this was turning out to be. Remus had written in detail of the dinner Lily had cooked this night, Sirius showing off new tricks he’d been working on, and the holiday pudding they’d nearly set on fire, and some fun Harry-time, but she’d never dreamed it would have all taken place in a bedroom. Or the kitchen… 

Not when there was such a homely room, all decorated, and—

“Merlin!” 

“Oh,  _ Harry _ !”

Everything seemed to freeze, to narrow and tunnel. The entire world faded away as Hermione and Harry stared in wide-eyed wonder at each other, and then back at the room on the other side of the window. 

Where a now very much awake baby Harry Potter had now entered the room on the back of a large black dog. Lily and James weren’t far behind, smiling broadly and mouths moving in what must be cheers and laughs Hermione and Harry couldn’t hear. It was impossible to miss both parents had their wands drawn and ready, likely to catch their son should this doggie ride take a sudden turn for the worse. 

Hermione couldn’t look away. 

Harry was  _ chubby _ . Such a chubby and happy little tyke, completely different from the skinny waif of an eleven-year-old boy he’d been when they’d first met, Dudley’s hand-me-downs swallowing him whole. His hands were adorably plump as they gripped tufts of black fur… And his mouth was open wide in what she imagined were silent squeals, giggles, and laughter. 

Her gaze slid to Lily and James, finding them to be as they were as Harry’s photo album. Remus entered the room last, cradling a cup of something steaming between his hands, a tired, but no less jubilant, expression splayed across his face. 

Harry gave a swallow so loud and thick beside her she felt in her soul. 

She squeezed tight against his fingers. “They all look so happy,” she murmured.

“Yeah…” His head fell against hers. “I don’t… that is… Where’s Peter?” 

“With his mum. Remus mentioned they missed him tonight, but he’ll come and share Christmas dinner with them tomorrow.” 

“Right.” A kiss to her forehead, followed by breathing so heavy she had no choice but to drop his hand and wind her arms around his waist. 

She buried her face to his chest, much more overwhelmed than she’d anticipated being, while Harry nuzzled his cheek against her curls.

“I don’t know if I’ve all the proper words to express just how much this means to me, Hermione…” He pulled back, bringing a finger to her chin and tilting her face to his. “But this was the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me, and I can’t believe how I’m in love with you I am. Deeply so.” 

Merlin, but the tears were coming again, and she was helpless against their insistent stream, but that seemed to matter very little to Harry. He cupped her cheeks with his hands, brushing at the scorching tears tracking down her face before he kissed her. Soft and gentle and far too chaste, but somehow conveying everything that needed to be shared just now. 

“It’s been a challenge properly showing and telling you just how much you mean to me while you’re at school and I’m in the thick of getting my arse handed to me day-in-and-out…” She giggled and sniffed, and he kissed the tip of her nose, leaning his forehead against hers. “And I’m not expecting any sort of declaration from you, or anything, but all this… and what you knew it’d mean to me, and—

“I love you, Harry.” Her lips brushed against his in what she’d wanted to be something special and lingering, full of all the promise of the night to come…

But life proved again it wouldn’t play by her rules or whims as her wand chimed again, signalling it was time to leave. 

Cuddled up to Harry’s chest, she pulled out her wand, ready to Apparate them back to where the Minister of Magic would be waiting for them, her heart beaming brighter than any star in the inky heavens.

Harry loved her. 

And what a safe and wonderful feeling that was.


End file.
